Brewed Glory and Stopper'd Death
by elvengirl9
Summary: I almost deleted this fanfic out of anger for Snape. Doubletripletotheninteenthpowerquadruple traitor that he may be, he still killed Dumbledore, and I shall not forgive him. Yet. But since I'm way too nice and doubt his guilt anyway, I may still write.
1. Brewed Glory and Stopper'd Death

**Disclaimer:** Severus Snape does not belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Here it is. My first Snape poem. Another one of those intricate, thoughtful, characters. You have my promises that I will write more, and perhaps delve into more intricate, thoughtful characters.

Brewed Glory and Stopper'd Death 

Dungeons twist, dungeons turn,

Icy potions boil and brew

'Neath the cauldron fire burns,

Fire simple, fire true.

Touch the fire- burn the skin.

Fools use body, I use skill.

Reach to knowledge far within,

Bend the fire to my will.

Art precise and danger cunning,

Every potion is a test.

Will to keep my mind from running

From the fire which knows me best.

Brewed glory and stopper'd death,

So like this life- watch your back.

Trusting no one, leave no breath,

'lest the dangers do attack.

Brewed glory and stopper'd death:

There they stand along my wall.

The distance is a minor breadth,

They're known to make a great man fall.

But I am not great or strong,

Forget the light, disperse the laughter,

With glory and death I belong,

For I am the Potions Master.


	2. Danger

**Disclaimer:** Severus Snape is the property of J.K. Rowling. If you're one of those people who hasn't read the books or watched the movies and only come on here to sue or criticize people, he actually is mentioned in this poem, but as the Potions Master, and not by name. Danger belongs to herself, a concept beyond any mortal man (or young author, for that matter.)

**Author's Note:** I had an urge to write a free-verse poem. Here's how it turned out. Tell me what you think.

Danger 

Her dress is black like the moonless night.

She's a cunning soul. She embraces you, and wraps you blind.

Her name is Danger.

She fancies the potions master, chasing madly after him. Someday, she'll get him, and she'll never let go.

His eyes are dark underneath from sleepless nights- he knows she follows.

He cannot convince her to love another man; his passion is too great.

He works with cauldron, and brew, and flame.

She loves flame.

She's sure she'll get him someday- she stalks him like a panther in the shadows, waiting for her chance to spring.

He cannot love another.

Or so he thinks.

So he flirts with Danger, and has learned caution.

Her luscious black hair caresses him, turning air to poison.

He breathes.

Not for long, she thinks.

He looks for love

And flirts with Danger.


	3. Walls

**Disclaimer:** The potions master belongs to no one but J.K. Rowling.

**Author's Note: **Some of you like my poems when they have absolutely no rhythm or rhyme. Others tell me I'm better rhyming. So I'll just write whatever I feel like, and let you all review.

Walls 

Nothing to watch me but shadows of gray,

Nothing to see me but walls of stone.

Yet these condemn me for here I will stay,

Secrets bound between flesh and bone.

Misery, misery, lift me upon

Wings of despair shielding feeling from fact.

Darkness and distance, let me be a-drawn

To islands of shadow and battles of tact.

Walls all around me, curse virtue, bring flame,

Cool, hard stone keeping madness inside.

Nothing but purpose will make myself tame,

Let rules be unmanned, yield power defied.

Fire below guise, mind weakening swift

Roads beside roads where my soft footsteps tread.

Can lack of emotion be better than thrift?

For with walls within walls, I'm better off dead.


	4. Love

**Disclaimer:** No, sadly, Severus Snape, being the brilliant, challenging, unique character he is, does not belong to me. Life is full of disappointments, isn't it?

**Author's Note:** I can't help but feel the title is a little awkward. Maybe it's just me. Please remember this poem is in the view of Severus Snape himself, and he doesn't exactly believe in himself very much. We all know him so much better than he knows himself, don't we?

Love 

How does someone love a soul when all they know is hate?

For I know so well how much love does when faced with fate.

Love ends lives so needlessly, to lose with naught to gain,

And those who love? Their tears now fall like clouds heavy with rain.

I ask myself the reasons of these ones, the reasons are so shrewd,

Emotions become so awkward, wisdom is so crude,

Why would someone ask to have their world turned upside down?

To touch the skies one moment then be buried in the ground,

Losing control is the one thing I will never bear,

Maybe that's why, looking in my heart, there's no love there.

Yet, it seems like I just ignore everything I feel,

And perhaps those fools who love might have the better deal.


	5. Lies

**Disclaimer:** I write poems, not books.

**Author's Note:** I've gotten back into a poetry mood lately, so here's this.

Lies 

I wear a cloak, a cloak of lies,

'Tis woven well, for it is my disguise,

Traitor to one side, loyal to another,

Both sides have those who call me a brother,

But I can feel their hate, their despise,

For they can't see through this shroud of lies.

Get too far, now I'm living my lie

And no matter how hard I try,

It doesn't matter how I feel,

Because the lie is becoming real.


	6. Fear

**Disclaimer:** As this poem doesn't apply to me, it might as well apply to Severus. Who, by the way, isn't mine.

**Author's Note:** Yes, we know this is a short poem, because the disclaimer and author's note are longer than the poem itself. I'm still hoping for long reviews, if you can find that much to say.

**Fear **

Fear and danger are so near

That it seems like they are naught.

What is life without some fear?

I once knew, but I forgot.


	7. Picture on a Windowsill

**Disclaimer:** I'm afraid it's not mine. Even if I said it was, you wouldn't believe me, would you?

**Author's Note:** This is sort of a third-person view, not my usual style. Just a "normal" Death Eater raid, and some hidden emotions that have been hidden for far too long.

Picture on a Windowsill 

Picture on a windowsill

Quiet knocking- once, twice.

Father gets up from his meal

Knocking comes again- thrice.

Little Sister pokes her head

'Round the corner, now that she's been fed.

Mother, she will finish soon,

As Father answers the door.

Elder Brother takes his spoon

Severs himself food- he wants more.

Calm to fear in one smooth seam

As Little Sister begins to scream.

One, two- Father's down

Mother grabs her children fast

One mouth smiling starts to frown-

Still, how long can Mudbloods last?

Two Death Eaters, one quite new

The other fearing what he'd have to do.

Quick jab, simple curse,

Mother stops against her will.

Hooded man who will do worse

Offers his partner the kill.

Children are not hard to kill,

But killing them is much harder, still.

Calling it a mercy thrust

Does not ease one's conscience.

For, had Fate been truly just,

Fate, and cruel Coincidence,

These children would be in bed-

Brother and Sister would not be dead.

Parents watch their children die

Know that they are truly gone

But the one who wants to cry

Is the man behind the wand.

Bitter anger turns to rage;

Two words, two deaths, one big war they wage.

First Death Eater walks outside,

Other, he lingers behind.

Men less strong the would have cried,

Men less hard and deep in mind.

Picture on the windowsill

Watched by eyes with tears that fear to spill.


End file.
